Straight To You
by coloursflyaway
Summary: Loki stands and watches the world –or rather all nine of them- coming to an end beneath him. It's bloodshed and desperation and chaos rolled into one and the god knows he should enjoy every second of it, but no matter how much he tries to he can't find find even the smallest spark of joy inside of him.


Loki stands and watches the world –or rather all nine of them- coming to an end beneath him. It's bloodshed and desperation and chaos rolled into one and the god knows he should enjoy every second of it, but no matter how much he tries to he can't find find even the smallest spark of joy inside of him.

It's familiar somehow, Ragnarök, and although he cannot remember all the other times he has seen it happening he knows that something is missing. He can't quite put his finger on it, but still his thoughts circle around the hollow in his chest, trying to trap the ever fluid, ever changing presence he is craving for. Without success though, for whenever he reaches out to the misty, blurred image, it changes from friend to foe, from kin to lover and from loved to despised, impossible to get a hold of.

A building collapses and the screams of the ones buried under the rubble ring sweetly in Loki's ears, full of anguish and pain and the trickster smiles, because at least he is not the only one who hurts. He wants to walk down and watch them trying to save themselves, to save the ones they believe to love, wants to watch them fail over and over again just like he has, but something keeps him where he is, waiting. It does not make any sense at all, and still he can't help it, each step away from his spot more difficult than the one before until it feels as if he is walking against an invisible wall.  
So instead he wraps the cloak tighter around himself, the warmth easing his discomfort a little; a voice at the back of his mind whispering that what is missing is not cloth or fur but another's body next to his.

Again something explodes, tinting the sky red and golden and something tightens in the trickster's chest, but he tells himself that it is nothing, nothing at all, until he almost believes it himself. But then a roar rips through the burning, cold air and this time he cannot deny the pain which flares through him, for this is Fenrir, his beloved son, crying out for the last time as Víðarr drives his spear through the wolf's heart, revenging his father and killing a piece of Loki at the same time.  
Blood drips down from his hands and it is only now that he notices how his fingernails have pierced the tender skin of his palms, leaving bright red half-moons imprinted in his flesh; wounds which would leave scars if there was enough time left for them to heal.

He continues to watch the scene in front of him, heart still weeping for his child, hoping desperately that Hela will take care of her brother and second tick away without Loki counting as people stream out of their homes, trying to prevent a fate which has been assigned to them long before they were born. The spell is only broken when he hears a soft thump behind him, followed by the noise of a few heavy steps and a hand curling around his own, warm and calloused and so familiar.  
_Oh_, Loki thinks and he should have known, should always have known that when the end came, it would be Thor standing beside him. He leans against the man he has once called brother until their shoulders are pressed against each other's and suddenly, everything is the way it should be. He intertwines their fingers and together they watch as Midgard burns.

It is calm and it is peaceful and everything it shouldn't be as Loki turns his head to finally look at the god beside him. Thor is still golden, even if the world is ending, clear blue eyes fixed on something in the distance, lips red and slightly chapped and the trickster wants to lean in and wet them with his own tongue just as much as he wants the other to look back at him.  
Thor doesn't, but he squeezes Loki's fingers slightly, the blood staining both their hands red and the trickster doesn't even try to hide his smile for there is no one to see, not anymore.

For one more second, he lets his gaze linger on the other, trying to commit this image to his memory for the rest of his life, before he turns away, just in time to see the first wave crash, swallowing the ground with all of its people, its buildings. It is a beautiful in its madness and Loki's heart both sings and weeps as he hears another scream, a cry and he knows that it is time to lose his second son, Jörmungandr, as well as the man next to him.

He turns and this time blue eyes are looking back at him and there is a fire burning inside them which he has never seen before. It's pained and hopeful and devastated at the same time and the hand which isn't grasped firmly in Thor's flies up and cups the thunderer's cheek, leaving smudges of blood all over the tanned skin. Loki leans in and rests their foreheads together, still holding the other's gaze, not daring to look away in case he will be alone again as soon as he does.  
The god of thunder's breath is hot against his skin as he whispers, _I have to go_ and the trickster feels every word slice right through him, for no matter how he wishes it was otherwise he knows the other is right. He nods, ignoring how his heart breaks, his thumb tracing strange patterns across Thor's cheek.

_I would bleed for you_, he says softly and is rewarded a small smile, precious and short-lived and Loki hopes that when the time comes, this image will be his last thought. _As I would for you_, the other answers and it's true just like it always has been. There is another roar and it is loud enough to make Loki's ears ring and he winces, because every second which passes brings them closer to their destiny.  
_I have to go_, Thor repeats and the trickster does the only thing he still can do: He closes the distance between them and kisses the thunderer, sweet and desperate, using his hand to angles Thor's head so he can lick inside his mouth for what he fears will be the last time.

The other tastes just like he remembers, like forbidden treats, shared tales and the vaguest hit of guilt and Loki can't get enough of it, only pulling away when his lungs are screaming for air and his head is dizzy. They share a few more moments in each other's space, still so close that one inhales the air the other breathes out and only now does the trickster allow his eyes to slip shut, even if it is only one moment f blissful darkness before his lids flutter open once more.  
A large hand grasps his chin and forces him to meet Thor's eyes before the thunderer brushes his lips against the trickster's once more, whispering _Maybe the next time_ into the kiss and Loki wants to answer with a plea, but the choked, broken sound spilling from his lips is _Brother_.  
Thor freezes for a moment before the other can feel him smile and Loki knows this smile, its kindness and how it always lightens up the thunderer's eyes and he smiles back although it feels like weeping. Once more, Thor deepens the kiss before he pulls back, leaving the other open-mouthed and desperate, and their eyes meet for a split second, a promise that in their next lives, everything will be different, better.  
The sky is still burning, the bright colours making it easy for the trickster to follow Thor's path as the thunderer flies off to kill Jörmungandr, take nine steps and fall.  
And Loki turns and presses a bloody finger against his lips which still taste of his brother and watches the world –or rather all nine of them- coming to an end beneath him.


End file.
